Consequences
by madmother2
Summary: Sam Oakwood is suspended from school and his parents decide it's best not to give him any attention. What will the consequences of this decision be?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Authors note: Set about three months after the end of season 4. Contains spoilers for seasons 3 and 4.  
I have no medical training so I looked stuff up on the internet and made up anything I couldn't find out so I apologise for any mistakes.

Summary: Sam Oakwood is suspended from school and his parents decide it's best not to give him any attention. What will the consequences of this decision be?

Chapter One.

Sam Oakwood sighed loudly but his mother didn't look up from the magazine she was reading. He coughed but she still ignored him. It was raining outside and his mother was ignoring him.

Yesterday he'd managed to make her pay attention to him by pretending to be ill. He'd even managed to get a false reading on the thermometer by putting it in his herbal tea whilst his mother wasn't looking. Unfortunately, that had led to a visit from Doc Martin who had been furious at being called out to a fake emergency. It had been worth Doc Martin's anger though because he had insisted that Sam be properly supervised and he'd had his mother's attention for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen today. His father had been adamant that Sam should not get any attention. In theory this was to encourage Sam to 'evaluate his value system' but in reality he was being punished. His father didn't care that he'd been suspended from school again. He was being punished because the headmaster disagreed with his father's parenting theories and had told him so. The headmaster had also accused his father of being unethical because he was testing his theories on his own son. His father had been outraged at being questioned by a 'mere teacher' when he was a qualified psychiatrist and lecturer at the University of North Devon. Personally, Sam thought that the headmaster of a large secondary school probably knew a lot more about children than his father did but his father would never that admit he was wrong. So, he'd lectured Sam about accurate placement of values within his ethical framework in the context of modern society and declared that Sam needed time without interruptions to work through the issues raised. Sam wished his father was like Tom's Dad. When Tom misbehaved, his father would tell him off and then say, 'Two weeks grounded,' or 'No pocket money this week.' And then the family would carry on like normal.

His parents thought that ignoring him would lead to better behaviour. Perhaps it was time for them to find out that they were wrong.

He looked outside and noticed that the rain was easing off. It was time to get into trouble. Sam slipped his coat on and went outside.

For about half an hour he wandered round the village looking for something that would make his parents pay attention to him. And then he saw it; a huge 4x4 parked by the shop. The owners had got out and left the engine running which was entirely stupid in Sam's opinion. He walked up to the door, checked that no one was watching and clambered in. It was an automatic just like his Dad's car. Smiling, he put the car into gear and put his foot hard on the accelerator pedal. The 4x4 surged into the middle of the road and roared up the hill.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Two

PC Penhale was walking past the school when a large 4x4 drove by. He barely had time to recognise Sam as the driver as he hurtled past, going far too fast for the narrow roads. Horrified, Penhale ran after him, shouting,

'Sam! Stop!'

Sam was having a great time. People were shouting and staring and now PC Penhale was chasing him. He laughed as he skidded into the top car park, narrowly missing a car on its way out. He eased off the accelerator and sedately wove round the cars in the car park until PC Penhale came into the car park and came towards him. Sam waited till Penhale was only a few yards away then he raced out of the car park and down the hill. Sam kept his foot pressed firmly on the accelerator and watched in the rear view mirror as PC Penhale dropped behind.

In front of him, the irate car owner was stepping out into the road to try to make him stop. Sam swerved to avoid him and carried on down the hill. Sam thought about driving into the sea but decided it would be more fun to make PC Penhale chase him some more. He would dump the car and run for it.

Up ahead the school gate beckoned invitingly and Sam aimed for the open space triumphantly. As soon as he was in the playground Sam reached for the brake pedal but his foot couldn't move away from the accelerator. Glancing down, he saw that his laces were tangled around the pedal. He tugged hard and his foot came free. He slammed his foot on the brake just as the car hit the school.

Sam had a moment of horrified realisation and then the first of the stones hit the car.

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Three

Louisa was teaching a class of year 2 children Maths. Rachel, their usual teacher, was away on a course which gave her a chance to teach again. Louisa had always been ambitious and she didn't regret for a moment being headmistress but she did love getting back into the classroom occasionally. The children had been full of questions about the baby and about Martin and it had taken a few minutes to settle them down but now they were all working hard. The topic today was multiplication and a couple of the children had needed extra help. As she looked round the classroom, Chelsey's hand went up.

'Yes, Chelsey?'

'I'm stuck, Miss.'

As she made her way towards Chelsey, Louisa became aware of shouting outside, followed by the noise of a powerful engine getting louder. Looking out through the window, she saw a large 4x4 speeding into the playground. A moment later she realised that it wasn't going to stop in time,

'Under the desks! Quickly!'

The children gaped at her. Only one or two of them started to obey her. Desperately she grabbed the two children nearest to her and pushed them firmly downwards,

'Do it! Now!'

The last word was drowned out by the sound of metal impacting stone. Children dove for safety as the car's bonnet came part way through the wall, stones crashing down around it. There was a split second of silence and for a moment Louisa thought it was over, but then there was a groaning sound and the ceiling collapsed.

Author's note: Sorry for another short chapter. More is on the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Four

Martin was annoyed. His surgery was always full of ignorant idiots but today the villagers seemed to be excelling themselves. He'd already had to explain to three patients that he wasn't their agony aunt and now he had a patient who thought he was a vet.

'Mr Rogers you need to take your dog to the vet. I only treat people.'

'But Nat is just like a person. More intelligent than some of the people I've met, I can tell you.'

'I'm sure that's true but nevertheless you need to take him to see the vet. I am not qualified to treat dogs.'

'You sure?'

'Yes, I'm sure. Now do you have a medical problem at all or did you just come here to waste my time?'

'Well, my knee's been playing up but old Doctor Sims, he said nothing could be done when I saw him.'

'When did you last consult Doctor Sims about your knee?'

'Well now, let me think…..must have been ten, maybe twelve years ago.'

'I see.'

Martin controlled himself with an effort,

'Get up on the examining table and slide your trousers down, please.'

Mr Rogers had just unzipped his trousers and sat on the edge of the table when Pauline ran in, white-faced and incoherent,

'Doc! The school!'

'What?'

'Doc, you've got to come! The school's collapsed!'

Without a word, Martin barged past Pauline and ran to the window. Looking across the harbour, he could see the school but instead of smooth lines and white paint there was a cloud of dust and a pile of rubble where one side of the school had collapsed. The back third of some sort of vehicle was sticking out of the rubble.  
Horrified, all Martin could think about was Louisa and the baby. Louisa had promised to take the baby in for a couple of hours today and then Aunty Joan was going to have him.  
The thought of either of them being hurt spurred him into action. He rushed back into his consulting room and grabbed his emergency bag,

'Pauline, call the Fire Brigade and the Police then follow me. I'll decide whether we need ambulances once I've assessed the situation.'

Leaving the surgery, he paused at his car to collect his second bag of supplies. He considered driving but decided that the crowds that were bound to come and gawp might scratch the paintwork.  
Running as fast as he could, it only took him a couple of minutes to reach the school. The playground was already chaotic with pupils, teachers and villagers wandering randomly about. PC Penhale was already there and was adding to the confusion by trying to keep anxious parents away from their children. Martin used his height to look over people's shoulders but he couldn't see Louisa anywhere.  
Impatiently, Martin pushed his way through the knots of people until he could see the damage clearly. A large 4x4 had crashed into the side of the school bringing part of the wall and a section of the roof down. Several desks and chairs were visible under the rubble. The school secretary was gazing at the rubble, her face glazed with shock. Martin grabbed her arm to get her attention,

'Was anyone in there?'

'Yes, it's the year two classroom.'

Martin shuddered at the unwelcome news. Year two meant six and seven year-olds.

'Who was teaching them?'

'Miss Glasson.'

Martin dropped her arm as his mind recoiled in shock. For a moment he felt sick and then his medical training kicked in.

'Everyone be quiet!'

His shout was loud enough to carry over everyone's voices and the noise subsided.

'How many teachers are here?'

Several people hesitantly stepped forward.

'I need to know how many adults and children are missing. Everyone else wait outside the playground for now.'

Martin waited impatiently whilst the teachers checked registers and whispered to each other.

'Well?'

'There are sixteen pupils missing and…….and Miss Glasson.'

Martin nodded curtly then turned to PC Penhale,

'Joe, you need to get people organised to start shifting the rubble to look for survivors.'

Penhale nodded and turned to the waiting crowd,

'I know its dirty work but I need volunteers to help move the rubble.'

Martin shot him an incredulous look as everyone waiting outside came forward to attack the pile of rubble.  
Several of the school children were crying and Martin walked over to one of the teachers,

'Are any of them hurt?'

'I'm not sure.'

'Well, find out then! If they're not hurt send them home.'

'But, Doctor…'

Martin ignored her, searching for Pauline in the crowd. Spotting her, he pushed his way through the children until he was at her side.

'Did you get the Police and Fire Brigade?'

'Fire Brigade are on their way. Police say it'll be a couple of hours before they can spare anyone.'

'Too busy giving out parking tickets in Truro, are they?'

'Don't know.'

'There are seventeen people under there plus whoever was driving that vehicle. We'll need as many ambulances as they can spare.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Pauline immediately started dialling and Martin looked across the playground, trying to decide where to put his stuff so he could treat any minor injuries that didn't need a trip to hospital.  
He was about to move across to the picnic tables when he heard Pauline's voice, raised in disbelief,

'What do you mean? None available?'

'Pauline?'

'There's been a twenty-five car pile up on the M5 near Exeter. All the ambulances have been sent there.'

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Five

Martin stared at Pauline for one incredulous second before reaching for his mobile phone, dialling 999 and requesting the ambulance service.

'Ambulance.'

'This is Dr Ellingham here. I'm at Port Wenn Primary School. There has been a serious incident and I need ambulances to be despatched immediately.'

Martin listened impatiently as the despatcher apologetically started to explain about the pile up on the M5,

'I don't care. I've got eighteen people buried under rubble here. If you don't get me some ambulances immediately people are going to die who would otherwise have lived.'

As Martin listened to the apologies his face hardened and he hung up. Looking round he spotted Beth Saul trying to comfort some of the children. Marching over, he thrust his phone at her,

'Do you know how to use one of these?'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'Sit on one of the benches and keep calling for an ambulance until they tell you that at least six are on their way.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Turning his back on Beth Saul, Martin pushed his way over to Joe Penhale,

'Penhale!'

'Yes, Doc?'

'Does the village have an Emergency Plan?'

'Ah, well, not as such, no. I've been working on it but I'm afraid it's still at the planning stage. There has been some resistance in the village to the more radical parts of my plan. My suggestion of a precautionary evacuation of the village at every high tide to avoid deaths by drowning didn't go down well at the last meeting, I'm afraid.'

'That's because you're an idiot.'

'That's a bit harsh, Doc.'

Martin ignored Penhale and returned to Pauline,

'Pauline, I need the Village Hall set up for casualties. Camp beds if there are any, mattresses on the floor if not. I'll need to do triage here. I'll use one of the picnic benches. I need anyone with first aid training to assist. Is Mrs Tishell here?'

'Yes, Doctor. She was just over there a minute ago.'

'MRS TISHELL!'

Martin's bellow made several people jump but within a couple of seconds Mrs Tishell was coming towards him.

'Yes, Doctor Ellingham?'

'I need you to go back to your shop and get out all your emergency first aid supplies. I also need to know what painkillers, antibiotics and anaesthetics you have. Take some people with you to help.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

As she left with three helpers, the Fire Brigade arrived and took over organising the diggers. Glancing round, Martin realised that almost everyone was busy.

'We need more people.'

He had spoken to himself and was surprised when an elderly man with a stick responded,

'Don't worry, Doc. I'll take care of that. Jim and I will go up to the church.'

'What?'

But Martin was staring at his rapidly retreating back.

'Another victim of chronic in-breeding.'

Martin went back to the picnic tables and lifted his bags up onto the table ready for use.

'Pauline, I may need more sick bags. Send someone to Mrs Tishell's to get some.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

There was a sudden shout from the rubble,

'We've found someone!'

'Don't move them. I'm coming.'

Carrying his bag he rushed to the hole in the rubble. There, looking up at him, were two pairs of eyes.

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	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Six

Martin stared back at the two pairs of eyes looking out from the rubble, automatically assessing them. Both sets of pupils were evenly dilated and seemed to be responding to changes in light. The two small faces were dusty but appeared undamaged.

'Does it hurt anywhere?'

Martin took each child's head in his hands and carefully checked the backs and sides of their heads for contusions. The first child shook her head vigorously,

'No.'

'My arm hurts.'

The second child was close to tears.

'Can you move it?' Martin asked gently.

'Yes but it hurts.'

'Can you wriggle out if someone helps you?'

Normally Martin would have waited until he could have performed a proper assessment before moving them but he knew that with no help coming he had to get the minor injuries dealt with as quickly as possible.  
The boy nodded and both children started to move. Martin stood back and let the fire fighters help the children out.  
Both children were able to stand by themselves but Martin got two of the fire fighters to carry them across to the picnic bench and put them gently on the table, side by side.  
As Martin stepped up to start his examination, he suddenly heard the church bell ringing. The fire fighter nodded approvingly,

'They've got the disaster bell going.'

'What?'

'The church bells; when it's a slow steady cadence like that it means there's been a disaster. So everyone knows to come and help. You'll hear the bells in Rock take it up in a few minutes. They'll add a beat to let everyone know it's Port Wenn.'

Martin nodded absent-mindedly, his attention on the two children. He quickly checked the girl,

'Were you hit by any falling debris?'

'What's debris?'

'Stones, bricks, anything. Were you hit by anything?'

'No. Miss Glasson told us to get under the tables.'

'Good.'

He looked around for a first aider to pass her on to but there were only the layabouts from the lifeboat crew nearby,

'Pauline! Where are my first aiders?'

'We're here, Doc.'

The lifeboat crew hesitantly went towards Martin.

'You're qualified first aiders, are you?'

'Can't go on the boat without passing. And we have to keep it up.'

'Right. You set up on the next picnic table. I'll send casualties to you. You'll take their blood pressure and pulse and check their eyes and alertness and then report back to me. Understood?'

'Yes, Doc.'

'Here's your first patient. She seems fine but I need you to check that she remains responsive and that her vital signs are within expected parameters. Also, keep an eye out for symptoms of shock.'

'Doc? We don't have any way of doing blood pressure.'

'One of you run down to Mrs Tishell's and ask her if she's got any of those home blood pressure kits that hypochondriacs like to use. And bring back some first aid supplies while you're there.'

One of the crew ran off and Martin helped the little girl off the table. One of the waiting first aiders picked her up and carried her to the next table over,

'Soon have you sorted, Megan.'

Martin turned to the boy,

'What's your name?'

'Josh.'

'Well, Josh, how did you hurt your arm?'

'When I dived under the table I hit it on the table leg.'

'I see. And did anything hit you?'

'No…'

'Are you sure?'

'I can't remember.'

'Hmm, well, does anywhere else hurt?'

'No.'

Martin quickly checked Josh but apart from his arm he was fine. The arm was bruised but did not seem to be broken. He passed Josh on to the first aiders and waited for more casualties.

Joan Norton looked up from what she was doing as she heard the church bells start to ring,

'It's not bell-ringing practice….'

She listened for a few seconds before realising what she was hearing,

'Oh no! It's the disaster bell. Something terrible's happened. We have to go.'

The sound of the bell carried across land and water and was picked up and repeated by the churches in the surrounding villages. Out to sea, fishermen turned their boats back to land. Inland, people dropped what they were doing and ran to their cars. The few tourists still on holiday were left bewildered as the land emptied around them.

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	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Author's note: I couldn't find the medical facts I needed so I made them up. Medical professionals may wish to skip bits.

Chapter Seven

Martin was talking to Josh's mother when the cry came from the rubble again. Looking down, he saw a jumble of heads, arms and legs. Counting, he realised there were six children all tumbled on top of one another under some desks. Four of them had their eyes open and were responding to the light, asking for help.

'This is Doctor Ellingham. Are you hurt?'

'My leg hurts.'

'My foot hurts.'

'My head hurts.'

'No but Molly and Connor fell asleep and they won't wake up.'

The voice belonged to a tiny dark-haired girl who Martin recognised from a recent trip to the surgery.

'When did they fall asleep, Rose?'

'A few minutes ago?' Rose looked at her classmates for confirmation and there was an uncertain nodding of heads.

'Who said that their head hurts?'

'Me, Nathan Smith.'

Martin looked carefully at Nathan Smith, memorising his face, so that he would know to check him for concussion even if he said he was feeling fine.

'We're going to get you out, then I'm going to assess Molly and Connor and then I'll examine you. You must not leave until I've examined you. Do you understand?'

The children all nodded and Martin stood up and turned to the Station Officer who was supervising both the fire fighters and the volunteers,

'Can you get the four conscious ones out carefully and take them to the triage area. Tell the first aiders to check their vital signs but not to let them go until I've had a look at them. I'll wait till I can see how bad the unconscious ones are. We may do more harm than good if we move them.'

'Right.'

Martin moved aside and watched as the fire fighters gently pulled the four conscious children out of the rubble. As they were carried past him he did a swift assessment; Rose had blood in her hair, that would have to be checked, Nathan was blinking rapidly in the light, almost certainly concussed, one boy with a probable broken leg from the angle and one girl with a very nasty cut on her arm. Swallowing down his nausea, he beckoned one of the first aiders over,

'You need to stop the bleeding on that girl's arm. Apply pressure. I'll be there as soon as I can.'

'Shouldn't we clean it first?'

'No, the blood will have washed out anything major. Get the bleeding stopped.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Martin hurried back to the rubble and knelt beside Connor. His pulse was a bit fast but strong. There was a large lump in the middle of his forehead. Martin carefully checked the rest of his head and found no other damage. As he lifted his eyelids to check his pupils, Connor stirred and regained consciousness.

'Doc Martin.'

'How do you feel?'

'Dizzy.'

'Well, that's to be expected. Do you hurt anywhere except your head?'

'My leg.'

'I'll have a look at it in a minute. Someone will help you out while I check Molly.'

He nodded to a pair of waiting fire fighters who came and started to help Connor get out.  
Martin turned to Molly. At first glance she seemed fine but her breathing was shallow and her pulse was weak. The front of her skull was undamaged but when he examined the back of her head he found a depressed skull fracture. Turning her head, he could see that there was extensive damage; she needed immediate surgery.  
Breathing deeply to stop himself vomiting, he looked across the playground to where Beth Saul was sat, speaking into his phone.

'Miss Saul, how soon will the ambulances arrive?'

'They've called some from Dorset but it will be at least two hours, I'm afraid.'

'Keeping calling.'

For a moment Martin considered his options but really there was no choice; Molly probably had less than an hour to live without surgery. He would have to operate and the sooner the better.

'ARE MOLLY'S PARENTS HERE?'

Martin's shout brought a pale-faced Stu Mackenzie running,

'Did you say Molly?'

'Yes. Is this your daughter?'

'Molly!'

Stu ran towards his daughter but Martin stopped him,

'You mustn't touch her.'

'What d'you mean? I mustn't touch her? What's wrong with her? Why's she unconscious?'

'She's got a depressed skull fracture. I need your permission to operate.'

'Operate? You mean once she's in the hospital?'

'No. The ambulances won't be here soon enough. I have to operate immediately if she's to have any chance.'

'What? Here? Wouldn't it be better to move her somewhere else?'

'Mackenzie, listen to me. Your daughter's only chance of survival is for me to operate as soon as possible. Do I have your permission?'

Stu Mackenzie looked at him wordlessly for a minute before nodding,

'Yes.'

Martin walked back to the bench, past the waiting children and picked up his bag,

'Pauline, go and see if the Village Hall is ready yet.'

'Yes, Doctor Ellingham.'

Back at Molly's side, Martin took out the instruments he needed. The smell of blood from her injuries hit him and he hurriedly reached for a sick bag and vomited into it. He carefully began to remove the pieces of rock and bone from the fracture, going as quickly as he could knowing that the sooner it was finished the greater her chances of survival would be.  
Somewhere in the back of his mind he was surprised by how easily Stu Mackenzie had trusted him. They clashed at every meeting of the school governors and Mackenzie lost no opportunity to say how rude and obnoxious he thought Martin was.  
The thought vanished as Martin realised that he'd done what he could. He was about to call for someone to take her to the Village Hall when he remembered that he hadn't checked for other injuries. A quick check found a broken arm as well. He hastily strapped it across her body and called for someone to lift her out.

'Careful. She mustn't be jolted at all.'

'Pauline! Is the Village Hall ready yet?'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'Take her there. Lie her on her side and find something to put either side of her so she doesn't move. I need a first aider monitoring her at all times.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'Will she live?'

Stu Mackenzie was ashen and his voice shook. Martin considered for a moment,

'Yes, I think so.'

'Thank you.'

Martin looked blankly at him before moving back to the bench to treat the other children.

Joan Norton had parked by the surgery and hurried through the empty streets. Now she gazed, horror-struck at the remains of the school. Pushing through the crowds she hunted desperately for Martin and Louisa. Finally she saw Martin, retching into a sick bag before stitching a cut on a little girl's arm.

'Martin!'

Martin ignored her, focussed on the task at hand. She hobbled over to the bench where he was working,

'Martin, what's going on?'

Martin looked up to ask her to leave him to work but found himself blinking back tears instead; held securely in Aunty Joan's arms was Peter, his son.

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	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Eight

Martin was brought back to reality by Aunty Joan's voice,

'Marty! What's going on? Why aren't there any ambulances? And where's Louisa?'

Tearing his eyes away from Peter, Martin swallowed his tears and forced himself to reply,

'Someone crashed into the school. There was a twenty-five car pile up on the M5 near Exeter so the ambulances are all dealing with that. Louisa…Um…They haven't found her yet.'

'Oh no,' Joan paled, 'What can I do to help?'

'Look after Peter. I have to get on.'

Martin turned abruptly back to the little girl on the bench,

'Does it hurt anywhere else?'

'Yes, my foot and I feel sick.'

Martin carefully checked her foot before getting her to lift her blouse so he could check her abdomen. There was no sign of internal bleeding and Katie was certain that no debris had hit her torso.

'Hmm, the sickness could just be the blood loss but I think I'll have you in the Village Hall just in case.'

He beckoned to the nearest first aider,

'Do her observations. If they seem normal, take her to the Village Hall, get her to lie down and full observations every fifteen minutes.'

'Yes, Doc.'

Martin worked steadily, examining and treating the other children found with Molly. All of them needed a period of observation and five out of the six would probably need to be admitted to hospital. The blood in Rose's hair had been from Katie's arm but Martin had insisted that she go to the Village Hall for observation; she had insisted that she was fine but Martin was worried about shock setting in. Connor and Nathan were concussed and would need to be kept in over night. Katie's foot seemed to be bruised rather than broken but would need to be x-rayed and Dan's leg was definitely broken.  
Someone brought him a bottle of water and he drank it gratefully. He still felt nauseous from all the blood and he knew that there could be worse to come. So far, they'd been very lucky; Louisa's warning to the children had saved their lives. Martin just hoped that she'd had time to get under a table herself. Unfortunately, from what the children had told him, it seemed that she had been more concerned with saving them than herself. Martin felt panic starting to take hold of him and forced himself to find something to do.  
Looking round, he realised that most of his first aiders were now at the Village Hall, leaving medicines and equipment unattended. He needed someone to guard them. Fortunately, arguing with Bert Large was the ideal person. Walking over, he interrupted without ceremony,

'I need you to help me.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Janet Saul's voice was as glacially polite as he remembered it and for a moment he hesitated but he needed someone who knew about medicines and he needed Mrs Tishell at her pharmacy.

'I need you to take control of all the drugs out here. To make sure that the right drug is used and that no one steals any. And to organise getting replacements from Mrs Tishell.'

'Certainly, Doctor Ellingham.'

Janet Saul glided majestically to the bench and immediately started arranging the medicines. Glancing round, she summoned two teenage girls with an imperious wave of the hand.

'Do you want to do something to help?'

'Yes.'

'Good. I will shortly be sending you to get new supplies of medicines from Mrs Tishell. I will write down what is needed and you will wait whilst Mrs Tishell gets it. On the way back if you are accosted by any young men looking to steal the medicines you will kick them in the groin as hard as you can and then carry on back here, being careful to avoid the vomit. Do you understand?'

'What vomit?'

'In my experience men always vomit when kicked in the testicles.'

The two teenagers looked at her in awe,

'What if it's a woman that tries to steal the medicines?'

'Tell them that I will track them down and make sure that they never steal anything ever again.'

'Yes, Miss Saul.'

Martin was about to suggest to Janet Saul that she shouldn't encourage children to be violent when he was distracted by the sound of a circular saw against metal. Bert Large was holding a ladder still for Al who was cutting through the roof of the 4x4, which was partially cleared of debris.  
The saw was so noisy that Martin didn't hear the first shout from the other side of the rubble,

'DOC! DOC!'

Martin quickly made his way to the far side of the rubble where fire fighters were inserting wooden planks to stop rubble falling into the hole they'd just made.  
Looking down he saw Louisa. One arm was trapped under a ceiling joist and she was pale and unmoving.

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	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Nine

'Louisa.'

Martin leant forward, terrified, and touched her skin. It was warm. Leaning forward he lifted her free arm and fumbled for her pulse. As he felt the movement under his fingers a rush of pure joy raced through him. She was alive! Her pulse was a bit fast but strong and steady.  
He turned to the waiting fire fighters,

'I need to climb in. Is it safe?'

'Aye, as long as you're careful.'

Martin carefully slid in to the hole in the rubble, dislodging a small cascade of debris. Over the sound of the debris Martin heard a whimper. Looking past Louisa he saw a girl curled up, rocking. Checking that Louisa's pulse was still steady, he moved towards the girl. As he did so, he became aware of an overwhelming smell of blood and other bodily fluids and he vomited into a sick bag. Looking behind the girl he saw two bodies. Their upper bodies were partially free but the rest of their bodies were buried. Grimly, Martin reached past the rocking girl and checked each neck for a pulse, knowing that he wouldn't find one. Satisfied that they were past his help, he turned to the live child,

'Can you walk?'

There was no reply so Martin reached towards the girl saying,

'It's Doctor Ellingham. You're safe now.'

The girl launched herself into his arms and clung to him, burying her head in his shoulder. He could feel her whole body shaking and he closed his arms around her in silence knowing that nothing he could say would make it any better.  
Martin awkwardly manoeuvred until he was facing the entrance and edged past Louisa. Two of the fire fighters pulled Martin out of the hole,

'We didn't even see her! Why didn't she come out when we opened it up?'

'She's in severe shock. Take her to a first aider and see if her parents are here. I'll come and examine her in a minute.'

He tried to pass the girl over but she clung to him with all her strength. Desperately he tried to reason with her,

'You need to let me go. I've got to go and find out how badly Lou…I mean Miss Glasson, is injured.'

'She's dead. They're all dead. I tried to pull Jack and Laura under the table but I couldn't. I pulled and pulled but I couldn't move them.'

Gently, Martin cupped her face with one of his hands,

'It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. And Miss Glasson isn't dead, I promise you.'

'She isn't?'

'No, but she is hurt so you need to let me go so I can take care of her.'

To his relief she let go of him and went with the fire fighter.

Bracing himself, Martin went back into the hole and started to examine Louisa. He could see a bruise forming on her forehead and when Martin examined her head he discovered two other contusions. Luckily, her skull seemed to be intact. Certainly there were no depressed skull fractures. Breathing a sigh of relief, he checked the rest of her body. He couldn't assess her arm until it had been freed but no other limbs were broken and there were no signs of internal bleeding.  
Climbing back out he said,

'She's got head injuries so take extra care when moving her. I need her out as quickly as possible so I can treat her arm. There are two bodies down there. Don't let the parents see them.'

Martin moved out of the way to let the fire fighters get back to work and realised that Al had nearly finished cutting the roof off of the 4x4. Once he'd treated Louisa and whoever was in the car, he'd move over to the Village Hall. He needed to check the children who were over there and any more survivors could be brought to him there.  
He was brought out of his reverie by Pauline's voice,

'Doctor Ellingham, they need you at the first aid bench.'

Pushing his way through the organised chaos, Martin decided to give the first aider a blunt assessment of his or her competence. However, when he reached the bench it was to find the little girl who's been beside Louisa curled into a ball, rocking. The first aider was trying to coax her into letting him examine her but she just curled up tighter every time he touched her.

'Pauline, what's that child's name?'

'Chelsey.'

'What?'

'Chelsey, Doc.'

'Why do parents insist on saddling their children with such awful names?'

Reaching the bench, he sat down beside Chelsey,

'It's Doctor Ellingham again, Chelsey. I've just examined Miss Glasson and I think she's going to make a full recovery.'

'But not Jack or Laura. Can't you make them better?'

'No. I wish I could but I can't.'

Chelsey started to cry. Helplessly, Martin put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently,

'Pauline, are Chelsey's parents here?'

'Don't think so but I saw her older sister a minute ago. Hold on. EMILY! EMILY BAKER!'

Pauline's shout brought a teenage girl running. She launched herself at Chelsey,

'CHELSEY! Oh my God! Oh my God! I thought you were dead! Are you alright?'

Chelsey didn't reply so Martin explained,

'Chelsey's had a very traumatic experience. She's in shock. I need you to get her to let the first aider examine her. Then she needs to go to the Village Hall so I can keep an eye on her.'

'Okay.'

Martin left the teenager talking quietly to her younger sister and walked back to his triage bench to wait for Louisa to be brought to him.

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	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Ten

Teri Oakwood peered out of her front window nervously. She was sure she'd heard PC Penhale shouting Sam's name a couple of hours ago, followed shortly by the sound of fire engines and she'd been expecting a visit of complaint ever since but no one had arrived. Something seemed to be happening in the village though. The church bells were ringing in a monotonous way and lots of people had arrived. Perhaps it was some strange rural tradition. She decided to go and have a look and if she just happened to see Sam, well, that would just be a coincidence, not her deliberately looking for him. Happy with her reasoning, Teri put on her coat and left the house.

Martin waited impatiently for the fire fighters to bring Louisa over to him. Unable to stand still any longer and unwilling to let the villagers see him hovering over Louisa, Martin went over to Bert and Al who were trying to force open one of the rear doors of the 4x4,

'How long before you're in?'

'Well, you see, Doc, that all depends on whether or not we can get this door open.'

Bert's sarcastic reply did nothing to help Martin's mood. Turning to Al, he asked,

'Do you know who's in there?'

'Sam Oakwood.'

Martin's face hardened and his voice was clipped with fury,

'That damn woman! I told her only yesterday to supervise that child. She spouted some claptrap about not wanting to stifle his development. Half-baked nonsense.'

'You're right there, Doc. Why, when Al was a lad…'

Martin tuned Bert out as he wondered why it was taking them so long to free Louisa's arm and lift her out. Just as he was about to go and tell them to hurry up, two fire fighters came towards him carrying Louisa on a makeshift stretcher. Someone had put a neck brace on her and the fire fighters were being careful to avoid jolting her as they made their way over to the triage area.

Now that Louisa was in daylight, Martin was able to perform a proper examination. To his relief her arm was not as badly damaged as he'd feared; she'd probably need surgery and might end up with a metal pin holding the bones together but she should regain full use of her arm in time. There were several bruises on her torso but none were serious and there were no signs of internal bleeding. Anxiously, he checked her head injuries again. His earlier diagnosis seemed to be correct; there were no fractures. He breathed a sigh of relief before continuing. Lifting her eyelids produced no reaction but having received three blows to the head she could be unconscious for some time yet. She would need careful monitoring in case of an increase in inter-cranial pressure so Martin decided to accompany her to the Village Hall himself. He turned to Janet Saul to ask her to arrange for all the remaining drugs and equipment to be moved.

'Miss Saul…'

'Doc! Doc!'

The call from Al was strident and as Martin watched he reeled away from the car, visibly upset. Swearing under his breath, Martin changed his instructions,

'Get two people to take Miss Glasson to the Village Hall. She needs observations done every ten minutes. You stay here. I may need you.'

Martin grabbed his bag and ran to the 4x4. They had managed to get one of the rear doors open. Martin climbed in and immediately reached for a sick bag and vomited again. There was blood seeping beneath the driver's seat and more blood on the door. Martin forced himself to go forward and lean over the driver's seat. The speed of the crash had sent stones from the school wall through the windscreen and they had hit Sam with brutal force. Martin lifted the largest of the stones off so he could assess Sam's injuries. Within thirty seconds he had catalogued too many injuries for it to be possible for Sam to live. Unfortunately Sam was still breathing and clearly in enormous pain. Without hesitation, Martin reached into his bag, took out the vial of morphine, filled the syringe and injected it directly into Sam's carotid artery.

Martin climbed slowly out of the 4x4 using Bert's large frame to steady himself.

'That was quick, Doc. Couldn't you get to him?'

'There's nothing I can do for him.'

'What? Nothing at all?'

'I've given him pain relief. That's all I can do. Is his mother here?'

'I haven't seen her.'

'She needs to be fetched.'

'Sounds like a job for the police to me. Joe!'

'Yes?'

'Doc says Mrs Oakwood needs to be got.'

'Well I would but I'm rather busy at the moment. Is it urgent?'

Martin resisted the urge to shake Penhale,

'Her son is dying under half a ton of rubble so, yes, it is rather urgent. Go and fetch Mrs Oakwood.'

'Well, I…'

Joe Penhale's voice trailed off as Teri Oakwood's shocked face came into view,

'Sam? SAM!'

Before anyone could stop her she climbed into the 4x4.

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	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Eleven

Martin walked away from the 4x4, searching for the fire Station Officer. The Station Officer stopped what he was doing as Martin approached,

'Any news, Doctor?'

He nodded towards the 4x4 as he spoke.

'Terminal, I'm afraid.'

The Station Officer didn't seem surprised but Martin realised that as a fire fighter he'd probably seen the effects of far more accidents than he himself had.

'We need to stabilise some of the adjacent sections before we can do any more. It will be sometime before we can continue searching.'

Martin nodded,

'I'm going to the Village Hall. I need to check on the injured. Send a runner when you need me.'

'Will do.'

Martin returned to the triage area,

'Miss Saul, I'm going to the Village Hall. Can you set up in there, please. I need some more morphine. Liquid, if possible.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Janet Saul immediately beckoned to her teenage helpers and started packing up.  
Martin looked for Pauline but couldn't see her,

'PAULINE!'

His shout brought Bert to his side,

'She's just gone to get water for all the helpers. She'll be back in a jiffy.'

'Huh. When she gets back, tell her I'm at the Village Hall and she's to come there but first I need her to let Mrs Tishell know where I am.'

'I could do that, Doc.'

'Good.'

Martin checked the contents of his bag and started towards the Village Hall.

'Doctor Ellingham?'

The speaker was slightly hoarse. Turning, Martin saw Beth Saul walking slowly towards him, holding out his mobile phone,

'You've run out of charge I'm afraid.'

'Thank you. When are the ambulances due?'

'I managed to get three from Dorset Ambulance Service. They should arrive in about twenty minutes. Two more are due in an hour. I've had no luck with the sixth, I'm afraid.'

Martin reviewed the injuries so far,

'Five may be enough but keep trying. Do you have another phone.'

'Yes, Doctor. Dave lent me his phone.'

'Good.'

Martin was about to continue walking when he was stopped by a distraught Teri Oakwood,

'Where are you going? You need to help Sam. He's still breathing. There must be something you can do.'

'Mrs Oakwood, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do.'

'Can't you operate? Surely you can repair some of the damage?'

'There is too much damage. All I would do is increase the amount of pain he's in.'

'You have to do something!'

'I am. I'm going to treat the people I can help. People who would not be injured if you had supervised Sam instead of leaving him to rampage around the village causing havoc!'

Turning his back on Teri Oakwood, Martin resumed his journey to the Village Hall, ignoring the shocked looks from the people he passed.

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	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Twelve

The Village Hall had been transformed. Camp beds had been put up with chairs alongside. There were tables at either end with first aid equipment neatly laid out. One table was presided over by Janet Saul and her helpers and contained medical supplies. As soon as she saw him, Janet Saul gave three items to one of her helpers and sent her over to him,

'Doctor Ellingham, Miss Saul said you needed morphine.'

'Yes.'

Hesitantly the girl handed over three boxes,

'Mrs Tishell only had one vial of liquid morphine so she sent over these capsules. There are two different ones with different amounts in. Miss Saul didn't know which you'd want.'

Martin glanced at the boxes,

'Thank you, I'll keep them all for now.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Martin looked round and realised that the more serious cases had all been put on the left hand side of the room, starting with Molly Mackenzie. Molly was propped up on her side with rolled up blankets stopping her from moving. A first aider was sat in one of the chairs checking her vital signs. Stu Mackenzie was sat in the other chair with his head in his hands. As Martin stepped to Molly's side, Stu looked up and Martin saw tears streaming down his face. Awkwardly, Martin put his hand on Stu's shoulder for a moment before asking the first aider,

'Observations?'

'She seems to be improving.'

Hesitantly he handed a sheet of paper to Martin. Martin ran his eye down the columns of numbers; her pulse was steady, her blood pressure had improved and her temperature was normal.

'Any signs of returning consciousness?'

'No, Doctor.'

'Probably too soon.'

'When will she wake up?'

Stu Mackenzie's voice was rough with emotion. Martin snagged an empty chair and sat down beside him,

'With this type of injury it's impossible to know. Most people regain consciousness after a few hours but sometimes it's a few days. Very rarely it can be weeks. When Molly does wake up she's likely to be confused and upset so it's important to stay calm and reassure her.'

'Right. Will there…I mean will she…?'

'Will there be brain damage?'

At Stu Mackenzie's nod, Martin continued,

'Impossible to say until she wakes up. From what I saw, I would expect there to be some very minor damage. For children this usually results in some temporary problems; because their brains are still developing they usually overcome any difficulties within a few months.'

Stu Mackenzie looked reassured and Martin left before he could ask any more questions. Martin genuinely believed that Molly would make a full recovery in time but when the brain was involved there were no certainties.

Martin moved down the line. Nathan and Connor were both feeling sick and had headaches but neither had vomited. However, when Martin re-examined Connor he realised that Connor was cradling his arm,

'Why are you holding your arm? Does it hurt?'

'No, my shoulder does.'

Martin delicately probed his right collarbone where a bruise was forming,

'Do you remember how you got this bruise?'

'No, I just remember things falling and getting under the table as quickly as I could.'

'You may have broken your collarbone. It's not serious. I'll get someone to put your arm in a sling to make it more comfortable.'

'Thank you.'

Martin told the nearest first aider to put Connor's arm in a sling and then stood there deep in thought; how many of the other children had knocks and bruises that they couldn't remember?

'Quiet, everyone. QUIET!'

He waited until everyone was looking at him,

'I need all the children to be checked for bruises in case they have injuries that they don't remember happening. If a family member can't do it then a first aider needs to. You're looking for cuts, bruises or swelling anywhere on the body. If you find any, call me.'

Martin moved on to the next bed and found himself looking at Louisa and a very relieved first aider,

'You'll do Miss Glasson then, Doc?'

'What?'

'You'll check her for bruises and so on? Yes? I'm sure she'd much rather it was you than me.'

The first aider was clearly embarrassed and Martin realised that he didn't want anyone but himself examining Louisa ever,

'Yes, I'll do it.'

Each bed had a blanket and Martin used Louisa's to avoid exposing her to the room at large. He carefully opened her clothing and moved it out of the way. He forced himself to methodically go over her body inch by inch even though it felt wrong to be touching her without her permission. By the time he'd finished checking her, his hands were shaking; Martin decided that he must be dehydrated. Louisa had no hidden bruises, cuts or swelling. Further examination confirmed his earlier diagnosis; she needed surgery for her arm and would probably have to have a CAT scan. She was still unconscious but was breathing more easily; she could wake at any time.

Martin reluctantly left Louisa's bed and carried on round the room. Dan was going into shock so Martin gave orders for a close watch to be kept on him. He checked Katie who was looking better and headed towards Chelsey.  
When he reached her bed his heart sank; Chelsey was clinging to her sister, refusing to let go.

'Why won't she let go?'

The teenager's expression was baffled,

'The others aren't like this.'

'Chelsey had a traumatic experience.'

'So did they. Why was she the one curled up in a ball on the picnic bench crying?'

Emily Baker looked fiercely at Martin and he realised that she was desperately worried about her younger sister.

'When are your parents going to get here?'

'Dad's at sea and Mum works at the hospital in Truro. She's a nurse in Casualty. I sent her a text to let her know that Chelsey was alive so she wouldn't worry. Doc what's wrong with her?'

Martin hesitated, unsure what to do. Emily was only a child herself. Was it right to tell her? But she was bound to find out eventually. And Emily needed to know now so she could help Chelsey now,

'Chelsey tried to help Laura and Jack. There was nothing she could do.'

It took Emily a minute to realise what Martin was saying but as it sank in she paled and tightened her hold on Chelsey,

'Oh my God. That's awful.'

'Yes.'

'What can I do?'

'Comfort her and make sure she understands that there was nothing she could have done. It wouldn't have mattered how strong she was. No one would have been strong enough.'

Emily nodded and started to rub Chelsey's back gently.

Martin crossed over to the other side of the room and had just sat down beside Josh when the door opened and Al ran in,

'Doc, come quick! They've found four more and they're not breathing!'

Martin snatched up his bag and ran.

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	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Thirteen

Martin ran as fast as he could back towards the school screaming, 'Out the way!' at anyone in his path. The fire Station Officer beckoned him over to one corner of the rubble where a small knot of people had gathered,

'Thank God you're here, Doctor. They were sealed in by the rubble.'

Martin pushed the onlookers aside and knelt beside the four children. A quick glance told him that Al was wrong; at least two of the children were still alive. He quickly checked the nearest child's pulse; it was there but very weak. Skin tone and a check of the eyelids suggested oxygen deprivation. As he watched the little girl took a breath and stirred feebly.

'Get her oxygen. Quickly!'

Someone rushed to do as Martin asked and he performed a rapid assessment of the next child, a boy. He had stopped breathing and his pulse was vanishing rapidly.

'Does anyone here know how to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on a child?'

One of the fire fighters raised his hand and Martin passed him the boy,

'Check for obstructions to the airway before you start.'

'I know the drill.'

Martin ignored him and moved to the next child, another boy. He was tall for his age and Martin recognised him; he had had chickenpox and his mother had been convinced it was smallpox because of some idiotic website she'd been on. Tom Robinson, that was his name. Tom was not breathing and Martin couldn't find a pulse.

'Is anyone here trained to carry out CPR on a child?'

There was a chorus of, 'No', and Martin realised that it would have to be him. Cursing under his breath he moved to the last child, a girl, and was relieved to see that she was breathing easily,

'Give her some oxygen and check her for injuries.'

Martin didn't wait for his instructions to be carried out but turned to start the careful process of being Tom's heart and lungs. He checked Tom's airway and, finding it clear, located the heart and began careful compressions and gentle breaths. It was very easy to kill a child whilst trying to save one by being too exuberant when doing CPR.

Martin's focus, always narrow, now narrowed even further until he was only aware of himself and Tom. Chest compressions, hard but not too hard, then a careful breath making sure not to overfill Tom's lungs and back to chest compressions. Again and again and again.

Suddenly it happened; Tom coughed. He was alive.

Martin rocked back on his heels,

'Give him some oxygen. How's the other boy?'

'Breathing without help. We've got him on oxygen too.'

'Good. Has a first aider looked at them yet?'

'Yes, Doctor. Except that lad you just brought back to life that is. A few scrapes and bruises. No head injuries as far as he could tell and no broken bones.'

'I'll check Tom and we'll get them to…'

Martin tailed off as the welcome sound of ambulance sirens echoed round the village streets. Martin looked for a familiar face and for once Bert Large was just where he was wanted,

'Bert!'

'Yes, Doc?'

'Go and guide the ambulances in. One here and two to the Village Hall. Assuming there are three.'

'Right you are, Doc.'

Bert hurried off and Martin turned back to Tom. A thorough examination revealed a couple of minor bruises but nothing else. If Martin had been in time, he would be fine. If his brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long then he could be a vegetable for the rest of his life.

Martin shut off his emotions and forced his mind to be completely clinical. If there were only three ambulances, then he needed to prioritise his patients. All four of the children here needed to go straight away, as did Molly, Louisa, Nathan and Connor. Dan's leg needed to be set sooner rather than later too. Would the paramedics be willing to take nine people in three ambulances? Could they even fit that many in? Probably not. Martin forced himself to think again. Molly, the four here, Connor and Dan. Louisa and Nathan could probably afford to wait.

Martin came out of his reverie to see two paramedics approaching him.

'Bloody hell! What happened here?'

'Unsupervised juvenile with moronic parents crashed into the primary school. I've got fourteen casualties, twelve of whom definitely need to be taken to hospital. Nine of them are urgent. How many can you take?'

'We can only take two per ambulance. I'm sorry mate. Where are all your ambulances anyway? We were expecting to be told to turn back.'

'They're all in Exeter. Pile up on the M5.'

'Dreadful. So, who do you want us to take?'

'The two boys. The fire Station Officer will fill you in. I need to get to the Village Hall.'

Martin turned to the waiting fire fighters,

'Bring the girls to the Village Hall.'

Without waiting for an answer, Martin hurried off.

The other ambulances had stopped outside the Village Hall and the paramedics were unloading stretchers.

Martin went inside and again called for attention,

'I need to know if anyone's worse than they were half an hour ago. No? Good.'

As the paramedics came in he rapidly directed them to Molly, Connor and Dan giving a brief outline of their injuries and his diagnosis. As they started loading the ambulances the two girls who had been oxygen deprived arrived and Martin quickly checked their lips and eyes before deciding which of them was the more urgent and arranging for her to be put in the ambulance.

'Truro hospital?'

'Yes.'

'We'll get back as quickly as we can.'

'Thank you.'

Martin watched the ambulances disappear and wondered if he'd made the right decision. Should he have sent Louisa?

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	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Fourteen

Martin went back into the Village Hall and searched the crowded room for Beth Saul. A lot of parents had arrived and for once Martin was glad to see them. Usually they just annoyed him by asking stupid questions or getting offended when he made factual observations but today their presence would help the children and should make his life easier.

He finally saw Beth Saul sat on a chair sipping daintily from a cup. The sight made Martin aware that he was badly dehydrated. Spotting Bert with a tray of drinks, he made his way to his side dimly aware that he hadn't had to barge through, people had stepped out of his way.

'Doc, what can I get you? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?'

Martin looked at the tray. The coffee actually smelt quite pleasant,

'Did you make that coffee?'

'Uh, no. Mrs Jenkins made it in the kitchen here. But she brought in her special blend; she thought people might need a pick-me-up.'

Martin took a coffee off the tray,

'I need some water too. A pint if possible.'

'Right you are Doc. I'll get that for you in a jiffy.'

Martin turned to go,

'Before you go, Doc, some of the kiddies have been asking for drinks. I haven't been giving them any because the first aiders weren't sure if they should or not. So, can they have drinks and what about food? It's past lunchtime.'

'I'll let you which of them can have anything in a minute.'

This time Martin managed to escape and made his way over to Beth Saul, taking a cautious sip of his coffee as he did so. To his surprise it was excellent.

'Miss Saul, how are you getting on with the ambulance service?'

'Not very satisfactory, I'm afraid. The Emergency Operator became quite rude in the end. They are adamant that they can't release any more ambulances. There are two due in half an hour but after that they refused to say.'

Martin thought for a moment. Two ambulances could take Louisa, Nathan, Chelsey and the girl who'd been sealed in but that would still leave him with four here plus however many were still left to be found. He needed more ambulances. He reached over and took the phone from the table beside Beth Saul and waited impatiently for it to be answered,

'Chris? Martin Ellingham here.'

'Martin, what's going on down there?'

'There's been a major incident; a joyrider crashed into the primary school and demolished part of it. I've got multiple casualties.'

'The primary school. Oh, God! What can I do?'

'We need more ambulances. There are three on the way to you with six of the worst hurt. Two head injuries, one broken leg and three suffering the after effects of suffocation. Both the head injuries have broken bones too. I had to operate on the girl as she had a depressed skull fracture. I had to perform CPR on one of the hypoxia cases so he'll have to be checked for broken ribs. You need to get the consultant neurologist and his team in and the paediatric team too. And you'd better check that the Coroner's been informed. The Police should have told him about the fatalities but PC Penhale's pretty useless so he probably hasn't got around to it.'

'How many dead, Martin?' Chris asked gently.

'Two so far and one soon will be. They haven't found all the children yet so it could be more.'

'Three? I'm so sorry, Martin.'

'It would have been much worse if Louisa hadn't told them all to get under the tables.'

'Louisa? Is she hurt?'

'Multiple head injuries, stable.'

'So, she's on her way here?'

'No, there wasn't enough room in the ambulances. The children were more urgent.'

'I'll get you some more ambulances somehow.'

'Right.'

Martin hung up and passed the phone back to Beth Saul who was looking upset,

Three dead, Doctor? How terrible.'

'Yes.'

Martin walked away from Beth Saul determined that there wouldn't be any more. Not if there was anything he could do. He went to check the last girl to come in. Her colour had greatly improved and she was conscious and responsive,

'How do you feel?'

'A bit sick and I've got a headache.'

'That's to be expected.'

Martin took the sheet from the first aider; her vital signs were steadily improving.

'Can I have a drink?'

'Have you let the first aider examine you?'

'No and I'm not going to.'

'Why not?'

'He's going out with my sister and Dad says he's useless. I want someone proper to do it. I want you to examine me.'

Martin couldn't fault her logic,

'Very well. Does it hurt anywhere?'

'No.'

'Good. Take your shirt off.'

'It's not a shirt, it's a blouse.'

'Take it off anyway.'

Eventually, Martin was able to examine her. She had a couple of scrapes and scratches but was otherwise fine.

'You're fine. You can have a drink of water but nothing to eat yet.'

'I don't like water.'

'You can have some squash.'

Martin looked up to find Bert hovering,

'What do you want?'

'I've got your water. You were going to tell me who can have what.'

'Right. She can have squash but no food,' said Martin pointing to the girl he'd just seen.

'Squash for Lucy.'

'Megan, Katie, Rose, Chelsey and Josh can have a drink of squash and if it doesn't make them feel sick they can have something light to eat. Soup or a sandwich. Nathan can sip some water, nothing else.'

'Right, got it. What about you, Doc? Can I get you anything to eat?'

Martin thought for a moment. He was still feeling queasy but he knew it would be a good idea to have something.

'I'll have some soup.'

'Coming right up.'

With Bert finally out of the way, Martin went over to Louisa's bed,

'Any change?'

'No, Doctor.'

The first aider handed him the paper with Louisa's observations. The numbers were reassuringly stable. Martin felt something within him relax; he hadn't made the wrong decision when he decided she could wait for the next ambulance.

Reluctantly, he left Louisa's side and went to check Nathan. Nathan was complaining of a headache and still felt sick but his pupils were the same size and responding to the light.

'I'm thirsty,' complained Nathan.

'You can have some water. Sip it otherwise you'll be sick.'

'I don't like water. I want squash like everyone else.'

'Squash will make you sick.'

Nathan looked annoyed but subsided briefly before saying angrily,

'He won't let me go to sleep. I want to sleep.'

Martin looked at him thoughtfully. He was awake and coherent and it had now been over two hours since he was injured.

'You can sleep but just until the ambulance arrives.'

Nathan immediately lay down and closed his eyes. The first aider looked at Martin, waiting for instructions.

'Continue to monitor him. If his breathing changes, call me.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Martin left Nathan to his nap and continued round the room. He was just about to talk to Rose's mother when a fire fighter came over to him,

'Doctor, the Station Officer says could you come when you've got a minute.'

Martin looked at him, puzzled for a moment until he realised what the man was saying. Grimly he picked up his bag,

'I'll come now.'

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	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Fifteen

When Martin arrived at the school the Station Officer was stood beside a newly cleared section. Martin went over and looked down, already sure what he would see; lying amidst the rubble was the body of a little girl. Martin knelt down and checked for a pulse but her body was already cooling down. Martin's throat tightened as he recognised another regular visitor to his surgery, Ellen Harris, whose eczema had been responding well to a dairy free diet.  
Standing, he cleared his throat so he could talk.

'Been dead some time.'

The Station Officer nodded, clearly upset.

Martin turned to go back to the Village Hall, only to find Anthony Oakwood coming towards him.

'Martin! Wait!'

Martin reluctantly waited.

'Martin, Teri says you won't do anything for Sam. There must be something you can do, surely?'

'I gave Sam some pain relief. There's nothing else I can do.'

'But there must be. You can't have looked properly. What if you operated? It doesn't look that bad.'

'Sam's injuries are too severe. Whilst it might be possible to prolong his life by operating there's a good chance he would die on the operating table and if, by some miracle, he didn't, all you would do would be to sentence him to a long agonising death.'

'You don't know that. He might recover.'

'No, he wouldn't. His internal organs were pulverised. I amazed he's still alive.'

Anthony Oakwood gazed at him in shock,

'But…'

'Send someone to find me if Sam needs more pain relief.'

Martin strode off before Anthony Oakwood recovered. He didn't have time to pander to him; he had patients who needed caring for.

As Martin reached the Village Hall, he heard the sound of ambulance sirens again. Going inside he summoned Pauline with a shout and sent her outside to guide the ambulances in. Whilst he waited he considered who should go to hospital next. Three out of the four were easy: Louisa, Nathan and Lucy. The fourth was not so obvious; Chelsey was seriously traumatised and in the long term might need more care than most of the others but her mother was a nurse, working in a busy casualty department and wouldn't be able to give her the attention she needed. No, Chelsey was better off here as long as her older sister was coping. He walked over to Chelsey's bed and saw that she had fallen asleep curled up against Emily's side. Emily had one arm around Chelsey and was using her free hand to send text messages on her phone. Reassured, Martin decided to send Katie with Louisa, Nathan and Lucy. Katie's arm and foot should be checked; he'd been very rushed when he treated her.

The paramedics arrived and Martin supervised the transfer of the four of them into the ambulances. He didn't realise he was repeating himself until one of the paramedics cut him off, saying bluntly,

'You've told us everything twice. Let us get them to hospital.'

Martin reluctantly let them leave, wishing he'd had time to check Louisa's vital signs again.

When Martin re-entered the Village Hall, Bert handed him a mug and a plate,

'I know you just said soup, Doc, but Mrs Jenkins has made some of her special sandwiches and they have to be tasted to be believed. Ambrosia. I'd marry her if she'd have me even though she's old enough to be my gran.'

'Old enough to be your grandmother? I highly doubt that.'

'Now that's where you're wrong. She's ninety-three next month and, well, you know how old I am.'

'Ninety-three? When's the last time she had a check-up? Tell her to make an appointment to see me.'

'Will do, Doc, but I don't think you'll find anything wrong. Amazing woman.'

Martin took one bite from his sandwich and realised why Bert wanted to marry Mrs Jenkins – if he could sell these sandwiches in his restaurant Bert would make a fortune.

Martin was checking the four remaining children when he heard what sounded like lorries pulling up outside. A minute later a pair of soldiers came in, spoke briefly to Janet Saul and then came over to Martin,

'We've got three ambulances outside. Who do you want us to take?'

Martin's puzzlement faded as he realised what had happened, Chris Parsons had pulled strings to get him army ambulances. Martin gave the army paramedics details on the four children still in the Village Hall and they put them into two ambulances and set off for Truro.

Martin reluctantly led the other paramedics to the school and the 4x4 where Sam was. He climbed inside, his stomach churning and went to where Teri and Anthony were crouched, gazing helplessly at their unconscious son. Sam was still alive but Martin could tell by his skin colour and the rasp of his breathing that it wouldn't be much longer.

'There's an ambulance outside. The paramedics will come and get him.'

The Oakwood's looked at him with dawning joy,

'So, you are going to do something?'

Teri's voice was filled with gratitude and Martin flinched at the hope in her eyes,

'I'm going to let him die with dignity.'

Without waiting to see their reaction, Martin climbed out of the 4x4 and went to the waiting paramedics,

'Have you got morphine?'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'Use as much as you think is necessary.'

The paramedics nodded sombrely and went to extract Sam from the front seat.

When Martin got back to the Village Hall, people were already starting to pack up. Finding Pauline he said,

'I'm going to the hospital. Anyone who needs me will have to come to Truro or go to Wadebridge.'

'Yes, Doctor Ellingham.'

Martin turned to leave,

'Does Mrs Norton know where you'll be?'

Martin realised to his horror that he had completely forgotten about Aunty Joan and Peter. He'd been so focussed on getting to his patients that he'd put his domestic obligations to the back of his mind. No wonder Louisa sometimes got angry with him.

'I'll call her now.'

Martin opened his phone before remembering that it had run out of charge. Without a word, Pauline passed him her phone.

'Aunty Joan? I'm going to the hospital. I'll call you later.'

Martin passed Pauline's phone back to her, puzzled by her expression,

'What?'

'Don't you think Mrs Norton would like to know how Louisa is?'

'But I don't know how Louisa is.'

'But…'

Martin strode out of the Village Hall ignoring Pauline's stunned disbelief. He'd never understood why people felt the need to chatter endlessly on telephones particularly when they had no information to impart.

Arriving at Truro hospital, he found that most of the consultants spaces in the car park were full and was forced to use the gynaecologist's reserved space which reminded him uncomfortably of Edith Montgomery. Their last conversation and been awkward. Edith had been incredulous to learn that he was staying in Port Wenn and he'd been forced to be very blunt before Edith would believe that he really did love Louisa, not her.

Interrupting the receptionist, he brusquely demanded to know where all of his patients were. Glaring frostily at him she told him that they were all in the casualty department. Martin hurried off, determined to speed things up; some of them should have been admitted by now.

Casualty was a scene of frantic activity as the doctors and nurses struggled to cope with the influx. Martin ignored the nurse who tried to stop him, saying simply,

'Doctor Ellingham, Post Wenn.'

Going from cubicle to cubicle, Martin checked that each of his patients was getting the correct treatment. As he approached Louisa's cubicle he heard the neurologist discussing her treatment,

'There's no sign of an increase in inter-cranial pressure but we need to do a CAT scan as soon as possible. The memory loss is slightly concerning.'

Horrified, Martin burst in,

'What memory loss?'

'She woke a little while ago and appeared to have no memory of the last eight years.'

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	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Sixteen

Martin gazed at the neurologist in blank horror. If Louisa had forgotten the last eight years then how would he explain about Peter or about their relationship, particularly since he barely understood it himself? Martin forced himself to concentrate. The neurologist was spouting the standard platitudes used to calm anxious relatives,

'…can be just the result of the shock…'

'Shut up and tell me exactly what happened.'

'I beg your pardon!'

The neurologist was indignant but Martin was too worried to soothe his delicate ego,

'I know more about medicine than you ever will. Now tell me what happened.'

The neurologist looked at him in dawning realisation,

'You're Martin Ellingham, aren't you?'

'Yes. Now are you going to tell me what happened or do I need to find someone with an IQ in double figures?'

'She woke and was disorientated and confused which is normal in a case like this, as you know. At first all seemed well, she knew her name, date of birth and where she lived but when I asked her age she said she was thirty.'

'And…'

'She fell unconscious again which, as you know, is not unusual with head injuries. I've ordered an immediate CAT scan to rule out a haematoma but she's presenting no symptoms that would suggest a haematoma or any other macroscopic damage.'

Martin nodded,

'Let me have the results of the CAT scan as soon as it's been done.'

The neurologist agreed curtly and Martin hurried past him and stood looking down at Louisa.

As he looked at Louisa he realised that he hadn't asked about her arm but the neurologist was probably so blinkered that he wouldn't be able to tell him anyway. He picked up Louisa's notes and flicked through them. The casualty doctor had ordered x-rays of her arm and head. Martin relaxed slightly, the appropriate first steps were being taken and he would ensure that everything was done correctly. He was about to replace the notes on her bed when he saw his name. Stunned, he realised that Louisa had listed him as her next of kin.  
Before he could process this astonishing piece of information, a nurse came in with a porter. The porter walked round Martin to the head of the bed, saying,

'Excuse me, mate. We've got to take her for tests. If you go to the waiting room, they'll let you know when she's back.'

Martin was still too surprised to correct the porter and simply moved aside to let them wheel Louisa out.  
Martin's brain was working furiously but within seconds he was brought back to the present by a young voice shouting,

'Leave her alone! You're making it worse!'

Hurrying towards the commotion, Martin found Emily Baker holding Chelsey protectively whilst glaring at a doctor. Chelsey was shaking and had buried her head into Emily's shoulder.

'What's going on?' demanded Martin, furiously.

'I am merely trying to get her to talk through her trauma.'

'Talk through her trauma? Three hours after it happened! Go away you unqualified idiot and send someone who knows what they're doing!'

'I am qualified.'

'No you're not. You're a junior doctor straight out of medical school and you're quoting from a textbook without understanding it.'

'I do understand it. Blethin clearly states that patients who have had traumatic experiences should be encouraged to talk about their experiences as soon as possible.'

'Yes and what does Blethin say about children in chapter seven, section three?'

'Chapter seven, section three…Children need to feel safe and comfortable to be able to discuss traumatic events. Most children will find it easiest to talk to someone familiar…'

The doctor trailed off and Martin saw guilt and contrition in his face. Swallowing, the junior doctor turned to Emily and Chelsey,

'I'm sorry. I wanted to help.'

Emily nodded and Chelsey lifted her head from Emily's shoulder.

'Have you completed a physical examination?' asked Martin.

'Yes, Doctor. Physically she's fine.'

'Good. Why don't you go on to your next patient?'

The junior doctor vanished and Martin turned back to Emily and Chelsey,

'Where's your mother?'

'Taking Molly to x-ray. They need her to finish her shift because there's so many people hurt. Dad's on his way. He rang from the harbour twenty minutes ago.'

'Good. If that idiot comes back, call me. Chelsey, you're safe now.'

He waited for Emily's nod before leaving them.

Martin spent another hour checking that all of the children were receiving the correct tests and treatment. Of them all, only Chelsey, Rose, Megan and Josh would be going home tonight. The rest were all admitted. Martin was not surprised to discover that all of his diagnoses were correct.

Eventually, they wheeled Louisa back into casualty. Martin picked up the CAT scan printout and the x-rays anxiously, shocked to find that his hands were shaking. A careful examination of the x-rays showed that her skull was intact and her arm was not as bad as Martin had at first thought and would probably not require an operation. The CAT scan also showed no major damage. Martin released a shaky breath. There should be no long-term damage. In the short term there could be numerous problems.

Martin sat in one of the small plastic chairs and took Louisa's good hand in both of his. He knew that he could never be good enough for her. He'd never imagined that a woman like her would want to be with him. She was intelligent, beautiful and passionate and apparently loved him. Or had before she lost her memory. Which didn't make sense because he wasn't worthy of being loved, he knew that. His own mother had told him that he had ruined her life and his father had always considered him worthless. He loved Louisa with all his heart but he never seemed to get it right. They were always arguing and he could never tell her how he felt. He was bound to make her unhappy. Sitting waiting in the busy casualty department Martin decided that if Louisa had lost her memory he would step aside and let her find someone better. Someone who could be the person she deserved.

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	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Seventeen

Martin sat with Louisa for about half an hour before the neurologist returned with two other doctors.

'You took your time,' said Martin aggressively.

The neurologist was unruffled,

'Mr Phillips needed my opinion regarding sedation whilst they set Miss Glasson's arm.'

Martin snorted but let him continue,

'I believe that sedation is undesirable at this time so Mr Phillips is going to use local anaesthesia. He's hoping to complete the procedure before Miss Glasson regains consciousness.'

Martin nodded begrudgingly. It was what he would have recommended too. He reluctantly stood aside to let a porter wheel Louisa away.  
Martin decided to see how the children were getting on. The casualty sister readily told him which ward they were on,

'They've all been taken up to Bodmin ward, Doctor Ellingham.'

'Even Molly Mackenzie?'

'Yes, Doctor. The neurologist said that nothing further needed to be done today and he thought she'd be better with people she knows.'

'Good.'

Martin turned to go,

'Would you like to borrow a set of scrubs, Doctor?'

Martin looked down at his clothes. They were filthy, covered in dust, blood and goodness knows what else. Another suit destroyed by the inhabitants of Port Wenn.

'Yes, please.'

A porter brought Martin a set of scrubs and Martin went into the men's locker room to shower and change.

Twenty minutes later, feeling cleaner, he walked into Bodmin ward. He went straight to the side ward where Molly Mackenzie was lying surrounded by monitors and tubes. Ignoring Stu Mackenzie, Martin picked up Molly's notes and read them carefully. He wanted to be certain that the consultants hadn't missed anything. Satisfied, he turned to leave.

'Doctor?'

'What?'

'Is she going to be all right?'

'Yes.'

Martin looked at Stu Mackenzie, irritated. He'd explained about Molly's injury earlier.

'It's just, they said…the other doctors said…'

'Said what?'

'That it was a miracle she's alive.'

Martin snorted,

'Rubbish. It was timely medical intervention by a highly talented surgeon. Nothing miraculous about it.'

'They talked about complications.'

'It's always possible to have complications with any surgical procedure however I see no reason to expect any in Molly's case. Obviously, she will be in hospital for quite some time and will need to be monitored carefully for a few days but her prognosis is favourable.'

'Thank you.'

Stu Mackenzie was clearly relieved and Martin left him smiling at his daughter. Seeing Molly had reminded Martin that he ought to ring Aunty Joan to check on Peter but he put it off, deciding that it would make more sense to ring once he knew how Louisa was.  
Thinking about Aunty Joan and Peter had made him long to be with Louisa again but he made himself check all of the children before leaving to find Louisa.  
It was nearly an hour before he was satisfied that all of the children had been seen by the right person and had been given the correct treatment. The children and parents all asked how Louisa was and he was forced to promise to tell them once he knew.

Finally he was able to leave and go to the women's ward where Louisa had been put. She was in a side ward and her arm was now in plaster. She was attached to a heartbeat monitor and a drip and she looked frail and helpless. Swallowing back tears, Martin pulled over a visitor's chair and sat down.

Martin sat in silence watching her face and listening to her heartbeat.

After a few minutes he realised that she was gradually regaining consciousness. About twenty minutes later, Louisa opened her eyes and looked around wildly. Martin squeezed her hand gently,

'It's all right. You were in an accident. You're in hospital.'

Louisa turned her head towards him,

'Martin? Is that you?'

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	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Eighteen

Martin struggled to find his voice as a wave of exaltation washed over him leaving him breathless with joy.

'Martin?'

Martin cleared his throat,

'I'm here.'

He leant over the bed so he could check Louisa's pupils. Her pupils were evenly dilated but she was blinking rapidly.

'You keep going in and out of focus.'

'You were knocked unconscious when the roof collapsed. Visual disturbances are a common symptom of concussion. Any headache or nausea?'

'My head really hurts.'

'I'll call for a nurse and get you some analgesia.'

He pressed the call button,

'Any other aches or pains?'

'My neck hurts and my right arm feels odd…it's in plaster.'

'It's broken. At your age, I'd expect it to be at least eight weeks before the cast can come off.'

'Martin, what happened?'

'What's the last thing you remember?'

'I was at my birthday party. They were teasing me about my age and Pauline said I should say I'm thirty whenever anyone asks. And you said it was stupid when everyone in the village knows how old I am anyway. And then, I don't remember anything else…'

'I see…'

'Wait! You said the roof collapsed. Where's Peter? Is he hurt? Tell me!'

Louisa tried to sit herself up and Martin hurried to reassure her, horrified by his stupidity,

'No, he's fine. Peter wasn't there.'

'Then where is he?'

'Aunty Joan's got him. He's safe, I promise.'

Louisa stopped trying to sit up and Martin relaxed.

'But what about everyone else? Isabelle and Pauline and Joe and Al? Are they all right?'

'They're all fine.'

'So I was the only one hurt?'

Martin squirmed helplessly, wishing desperately that he hadn't told her about the roof collapsing. She would never forgive him if he lied to her but she needed to rest and stay calm. Perhaps he could reason with her,

'I think we should discuss this later. You need to rest now. Where is that nurse?'

He tried to let go of Louisa's hand so he could go and find a nurse but Louisa tightened her grip so much that her fingers started to go white,

'Martin, I have to know.'

'Yes but I really do think that you'll cope with it better when you've had some more rest.'

'Cope with it better? My God, Martin, how bad was it?'

Martin hesitated as he remembered the events of the day. He didn't want to describe the fear, pain and heartbreak. In his heart he hoped that Louisa never remembered what happened. Swallowing, he simply said,

'Bad.'

'But you said everyone at my party is fine?'

'You're suffering from retrograde amnesia which is very common in cases of head trauma. Most people regain their memories although in a lot of cases patients never remember the incident which led to the trauma.'

'So, it wasn't during my party?'

'No.'

'When was it?'

'This morning.'

'Martin!'

Louisa was clearly exasperated and the heartbeat monitor reflected her annoyance as her pulse increased. Martin reflected bitterly that all his problems with Louisa seemed to stem from his inability to find the right words. That, and her unreasonable obstinacy, of course. He didn't understand why she wouldn't drop it and get some rest as he'd suggested. He was pulled from his reverie by the arrival of a nurse who immediately started asking Louisa questions. Seizing the opportunity, he said,

'I must let Aunty Joan know that you've regained consciousness.'

Martin left the ward and went into the corridor to use his phone,

'Aunty Joan?'

'Marty, what's going on? How's Louisa?'

'Louisa's just regained consciousness. She's concussed but that was to be expected. She's got some retrograde amnesia but that will probably pass.'

'Retrograde amnesia? How much?'

'Approximately two months. The last thing she remembers is her birthday party.'

'So she doesn't remember what happened?'

'No.'

Martin didn't realise that he sounded guilty until he heard Aunty Joan's sharp question,

'What did you say to her?'

'I…um…told her that a roof collapsed. She wanted to know what had happened.'

'So you told her. Couldn't you have lied for once in your life?'

'No. I won't lie to Louisa. Ever.'

'God help her.'

'What?'

'Never mind. So you've told her everything?'

'No. I…uh…made an excuse and left.'

'Leaving her confused and worried?'

'Yes. I decided it was best.'

'Decided it was best for her to be confused and worried? Marty, have you quite lost your mind?'

'Louisa is very unwell. Giving her bad news could be detrimental to her health.'

'You don't want to be the one who tells her, do you?'

'No. You know I'll say the wrong thing.'

'It would be better coming from you even if you do say the wrong thing. Martin, you have to tell her.'

Martin hung up without saying goodbye and stared sightlessly out of the window trying to decide what to do.

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	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Nineteen

Martin spent twenty minutes staring out of the window thinking about what Aunty Joan had said to him. Was she right? Should he be the one to tell Louisa what happened? Eventually, he decided that there was only one thing to do.

Returning to Louisa's bed, he took her hand and squeezed it gently,

'Are you sure you can't wait?'

'I'm sure.'

'Even though, in my medical opinion, it would be better for you to rest now?'

Louisa paused before replying,

'I won't be able to sleep until I know. Martin, I know it's hard for you to understand but I care about the people in the village.'

Martin snorted but resisted the temptation to point out that the villagers had done nothing to deserve her regard. Steeling himself he said,

'Sam Oakwood stole a large four by four and crashed into the school. The roof of the room you were in collapsed which is how you sustained your current injuries.'

For a moment Martin thought that Louisa wasn't going to ask the inevitable question but his hopes were dashed,

'Is Sam all right?'

'No.'

At Louisa's questioning look, Martin reluctantly elaborated,

'He will have died of his injuries by now.'

'Wasn't there anything you could do?'

'No. I gave him some morphine but he was beyond medical help. If only those idiotic parents of his had brought him up properly!'

Martin's exclamation was heartfelt and Louisa squinted at him, forcing her eyes to focus for a couple of seconds. Martin was wearing scrubs and looked exhausted. Hesitantly, she asked,

'Was anyone else hurt?'

'Yes.'

Martin looked away from Louisa, wishing he were anywhere else. Louisa would be heartbroken. Her warm, loving nature meant that she cared deeply for the children in her school.

'Who, Martin?'

'You were teaching the year two's. Several of them were hurt…'

Martin stopped, unable to continue. Louisa looked up at him in shock,

'How many? Martin?'

Martin counted them up in his mind,

'Ten physically injured, seven seriously. One more will need long term counselling.'

'What about the others, Martin? There are sixteen children in year two.'

'Two of them are unharmed. I'm afraid the other three are dead.'

'Dead? Who, Martin?'

'Ellen Harris, Laura and Jack.'

Martin watched helplessly as Louisa began to cry. The grip on his hand tightened and Louisa pulled him towards her. Martin awkwardly put an arm around her, nearly dislodging her drip as he did so. Louisa didn't seem to notice as she clung to him and cried.

The following morning, Martin woke early, feeling stiff. He had fallen asleep in the chair next to Louisa's bed, which was not big enough for his tall frame. Martin grimaced as he stood. He would have to make sure he did some stretching exercises later but for now he needed breakfast and a shower. First he checked Louisa's charts and readouts to make sure that she was making steady progress. Gazing down at her, he marvelled at her beauty. Even pale and injured as she was now, Louisa was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The fact that none of the villagers had asked her to marry them was yet another sign of the low intelligence prevalent in Port Wenn. Thinking of the village reminded Martin that there was a ward full of children to be checked and no doubt some of the village idiots would need treatment. Sighing, he left Louisa and went in search of breakfast.

An hour later, Martin was on the children's ward checking progress and treatment schedules. Breakfast had been barely edible and he wasn't surprised to find the children complaining about their food, which seemed to consist of soggy white toast and soggy cornflakes with lukewarm milk. Storming over to the nurses' station, he interrupted the Sister without compunction,

'Why aren't these children being given a proper breakfast?'

'They're given the same as the adults. It provides perfectly adequate nutrition.'

'Absolute nonsense! White bread and sugary cereals do not provide adequate nutrition for growing children. They need fruit, protein and complex carbohydrates. They should all be having eggs, fish or porridge with wholemeal bread and fruit.'

'I'm sorry Doctor, but I don't have any control over the food. I can only give them what's on the menu.'

The Sister handed Martin a menu. He read it with mounting fury then pushed the nurse aside so he could use the hospital phone,

'Chris? Martin Ellingham here.'

'Martin. Well done yesterday. Amazing job.'

'What?'

'At Port Wenn. You saved that little girl by operating at the scene. Outstanding.'

'I'm a doctor; it's my job. I need to know who's in charge of the food for the children's ward.'

'In charge of preparing it?'

'No. Who's in charge of deciding what food should be prepared?'

'It's decided by a committee.'

Martin snorted,

'A committee. No wonder it's so awful. Who chairs the committee?'

'I do,' replied Chris Parsons, reluctantly.

'Really. Then you need to revise your lectures on the nutritional requirements of children. The food supplied for breakfast is totally inadequate and the other meals are only slightly better. I've got several patients who are going to be in hospital for an extended period and I don't want to have to treat them for malnutrition when they come out.'

'It's not that bad.'

'Yes, it is. There's a whole host of vitamins and minerals missing from this diet.'

'It's a perfectly adequate short-term diet. I agree that it's not ideal for the long term but on average a patient only stays in this hospital for nine days.'

'And what about patients that are in long term? Do they get a different diet?'

'No, because there isn't enough money to pay for better food.'

'Pay the consultants less. Most of them are overpaid.'

'I wish I could.'

Chris' voice was wistful and Martin remembered that consultants' fees were set nationally.

'Can you do anything about the food?'

'No, the budget's stretched so tight that I don't know how we're going to make it to the end of the quarter as it is.'

Martin hung up without saying goodbye and looked around the ward. Most of the children had eaten part of their breakfast but virtually all of the trays had food left uneaten. Martin walked to the middle of the ward and clapped his hands,

'Listen!'

He waited until everyone was quiet,

'The food isn't going to get any better so parents need to bring food in. Wholemeal bread, honey and eggs for breakfast and soups and sandwiches for tea. And lots of fruit. No sweets, crisps or cakes. No fizzy drinks. And make sure you wash your hands before preparing food.'

There was a moment of offended silence and then Connor's mother replied, indignantly,

'We do know about proper hygiene, doctor!'

'Really? Then why do bugs spread round the village like lightening? If you just remembered simple things like washing your hands regularly and not letting pets share your food, my surgery would be empty half the time.'

There were furious murmurs from several people but before anyone could reply they were interrupted,

'Doctor Ellingham?'

'Yes.'

Martin turned to find a camera pointed at him,

'John Evans, Daily News. We're here to do an interview.'

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	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Twenty

Martin flinched as the camera flash went off. The reporter smiled ingratiatingly at Martin,

'What does it feel like to be a hero, Doctor Ellingham?'

'Get out!'

'What?'

'Did you disinfect your equipment before coming in here?'

'No. Why?'

'Your ignorance is unbelievable. You are putting seriously ill children at risk by bringing your germ-laden equipment into the ward. Leave at once!'

'But they're all coming in and out!'

John Evans gestured to the families around each bed. Martin gave an exasperated sigh as he explained,

'They are all from the same small community. They're in and out of each others' houses all the time whether they're invited or not. As soon as one of them contracts something they spread it to everyone else. You are bringing new infectious agents in.'

'But…'

'Go! Now!'

Martin's voice had been getting louder and louder and Stu Mackenzie came out of Molly's room to investigate,

'Isn't that a bit harsh, Doctor?'

'If one of them is carrying something and Molly catches it she may die. Even the common cold would be dangerous for her at the moment.'

Stu's eyes hardened and his fists clenched,

'Get out before I kick you out!'

Defeated the reporter and cameraman retreated.

'This floor needs to be cleaned immediately,' Martin told the nearest nurse, 'In fact, the whole ward needs doing. When was it last cleaned?'

'The cleaners come every evening, Doctor.'

Martin looked around him, unimpressed,

'Well, they're clearly incompetent. The whole ward needs to be cleaned from top to bottom. See to it.'

Martin strode off, ignoring the nurse's stuttered,

'B…but…'

Leaving the ward, Martin started towards the women's ward only to find himself looking at the back of the reporter. John Evans was trying to interview Chelsey while her father and sister tried to protect her.

'What was it like being buried in rubble?'

'Shut up!'

Emily sounded furious as she stood between Chelsey and the photographer. Their father, slower to react, stepped forward,

'She don't want to talk about it.'

'Just a quick interview,' wheedled the reporter.

Outraged, Martin barged past the newspapermen, placing himself directly in the path of the photographer who was trying to sidle past Emily,

'Get away from her you vile parasites! She's been through a very traumatic experience and the last thing she needs is to be harassed by a pair of obnoxious idiots.'

'I wasn't harassing her,' said John Evans, defensively.

'Yes you were,' said Emily, angrily, 'We tried to go past but you blocked the way!'

'We just want to interview her. What harm could it do?'

'What harm could it do? You imbecile! After the sort of experience Chelsey has had, being forced to recall it by some semi-literate ghoul could cause permanent psychological damage!'

As Martin raged, Ian Baker got paler and paler. As John Evans stared at Martin in shock, Ian stepped closer to him, saying,

'If you harass my daughter again, it'll be the last thing you ever do.'

His quiet voice was laced with fury and John Evans took a step back, terrified. Ian Baker was tall and broad and years of fishing had made him very strong. He took another step towards the reporter and Emily shot a pleading look at Martin. Thinking frantically, Martin said,

'Because he'll sue you and your paper for every penny you've got. In fact, Mr Baker is going to phone your rag of a newspaper now to complain to the Editor.'

Ian Baker took a deep breath and exhaled,

'Aye. I'll do that.'

The fisherman took a step back from the reporter and took out his mobile phone.

Routed, the newspapermen hurried off.

Martin nodded and walked away completely oblivious to the hero worship in the girls' eyes.

Reaching Louisa's ward, Martin meticulously cleaned his hands with alcohol scrub again before going in. Louisa was propped up in bed, unenthusiastically nibbling a piece of toast. Her face brightened when she saw Martin,

'Martin, I thought you'd gone back to Port Wenn.'

'No. How are you feeling?'

As he spoke, Martin picked up Louisa's chart and checked that there'd been no change in her recorded symptoms. Satisfied, he lifted his eyes to Louisa's just as she said,

'A bit rough.'

'Hmm?'

'I've got an awful headache and my vision's still peculiar.'

'Better or worse than last night?'

'I'm not sure. Maybe very slightly better than last night.'

'Definitely not worse?'

'No but I thought I'd feel much better this morning.'

'I'm afraid it takes time to recover from these sorts of injuries. The visual disturbances and headache should improve rapidly but with a severe concussion it can be several weeks before symptoms completely disappear.'

'Several weeks?'

Louisa's dismay was clear and Martin wished that he could think of something positive to say,

'I'm sorry.'

Louisa reached out and took Martin's hand, squeezing it reassuringly,

'Martin, none of this is your fault.'

'I know.'

Martin's voice was clipped and Louisa knew it would be useless to try to get him to discuss his emotions. Changing the subject, she asked,

'How's Peter?'

With a guilty start, Martin realised that he'd forgotten to ring Aunty Joan,

'Um…he's at Aunty Joan's. I haven't seen him this morning.'

'Can I see him?'

'Hospitals aren't good places for babies.'

'But Martin, you've just told me that I may be in here for weeks. I can't wait that long to see Peter!'

Louisa's voice was agitated and Martin realised that she was right. It might harm the mother-baby bonding process if they were separated for that long.

'I'll bring him in. That way I can make sure he doesn't have any contact with any ill people. Aunty Joan lets complete strangers hold him.'

'She's just proud of him, Martin.'

'Hmph.'

Louisa smiled at Martin's embarrassment and pulled him gently towards her. He hesitated for a moment, scared of hurting her, then kissed her.

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	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Twenty-one

After Martin left, Louisa was treated to a parade of consultants, all with their entourages. They all treated Louisa with care, consideration and what she eventually identified as trepidation. At first Louisa was puzzled but then she overheard one of the consultants mentioning Martin's name and realised that they were nervous about his reaction to their care of her. Secretly amused, she listened attentively as the consultants told her exactly what Martin had told her this morning; she should make a full recovery in time, most of the memory loss would probably come back and her arm would be in plaster for six to ten weeks.

After they left, she slept for a while only to be woken by the sound of children whispering fiercely to each other,

'She's asleep. We have to go!'

'Dad promised I could visit her.'

'Chelsey, we can come back tomorrow.'

'No! Dad said I could see Miss Glasson and I'm staying until she wakes up.'

Louisa didn't have to open her eyes to know what she would see; Chelsey Baker stood with her arms folded and glowering obstinately. Chelsey's strong will and independent attitude would be a blessing when she was an adult but could make her a very difficult child. Smiling, Louisa opened her eyes and was delighted that her eyes decided to focus clearly for a few seconds; Chelsey's pose and expression were exactly as she had imagined and were mirrored by Emily.

'Hello, you two. Have you come to visit me?'

In a flash, Chelsey's glower disappeared and was replaced by a huge smile,

'Miss Glasson! You're awake. Are you better?'

'Not completely, Chelsey. I'm going to be in hospital for a while, I'm afraid. Are you all right?'

'How long do you have to stay in hospital for?'

Louisa noticed the panic in Chelsey's eyes and the way Emily stiffened when she asked if Chelsey was okay and she made a mental note to ask Martin about it. Sighing, she replied,

'I don't know. It depends how quickly my vision returns to normal. At the moment everything seems rock from side to side as if I'm on a boat or else it's blurry.'

'But you're going to get better?'

Chelsey's voice was high and panicky and Louisa quickly reassured her,

'I'm going to be fine. It's just going to be a few weeks.'

Chelsey relaxed slightly but her eyes were haunted so Louisa decided to distract her,

'So, Emily, are you still enjoying secondary school? How's the maths going?'

Emily happily started to tell her about her friends and teachers and Chelsey sat down in the visitor's chair, the strain vanishing out of her face.

By the time Martin got back to the hospital it was nearly lunchtime. Peter had needed feeding and changing and he'd had some repeat prescriptions that couldn't wait and then Aunty Joan had insisted on coming to the hospital with him,

'I want to see Louisa too. Oh, don't worry, I'll let you go in first.'

'But Aunty Joan…'

'Besides, Martin, I know you; you're going to check on all the children whilst you're there. What are you going to do with Peter then?'

Silenced, he had sighed and opened the car door for her.

Luckily she had vanished to 'see how the children are getting on' although he could have given her far more accurate information on their condition than she'd get from visiting them, so he and Peter could see Louisa alone. As he entered the ward, he was annoyed to hear children's voices coming from Louisa's room. He was about to rush in and order them to leave when he recognised Emily Baker's voice talking about university. Intrigued, Martin entered quietly. He was certain that Emily was not old enough for university, fifteen at most and he'd have said she was younger from her developmental markers. As he slipped in, Emily was saying, gloomily,

'And now Oxford have offered me a place too.'

Martin joined in without bothering to say hello,

'A place to do what?'

'Maths.'

'Maths? At your age?'

'Yes. I'm _very _good at Maths. And Mum and Dad really want me to go but they can't afford it and I don't want to go.'

'Aren't there scholarships?'

'Yes, I get all the scholarships but it's not enough because I have to have a chaperone because I'm too young. So Mum and Dad are talking about taking out a second mortgage to pay for it but they can't afford it.'

'I'm sure they know what they're doing,' said Louisa, soothingly.

Martin was about to make a scathing reply but was beaten by Emily calmly explaining,

'No, they don't. I've done the calculations and when interest rates rise they'll fall behind on the payments and end up losing the house.'

'You can't be sure of that,'

Louisa sounded slightly shocked and Emily continued,

'I've been helping Dad with his tax returns for five years now and I looked up Mum's salary on the internet. They can't afford it and I don't want to go anyway.'

'Why not?'

'I want to stay here with my friends. At Oxford or Cambridge I'd be the weird genius kid who everyone wants to beat but no one wants to talk to. I'm only thirteen and I don't want to go away from home somewhere where I won't know anyone and where my friends won't even be able to come and visit.'

Martin looked at Emily, who was visibly distressed and said,

'The Open University.'

Louisa and Emily looked blankly at him.

'Do an Open University degree instead then do your postgraduate studies at Oxford or Cambridge.'

'Martin, you're a genius!'

Louisa's exclamation made Martin shift awkwardly.

Emily was still puzzled so Louisa explained how she could do an Open University degree part time and still go to school and do all the other subjects with her friends.

Whilst Louisa and Emily talked excitedly, Martin observed Chelsey who was playing peek-a-boo with Peter. She had shadows under her eyes and there was an air of fragility about her. Martin decided to get Pauline to book the whole family in for an appointment as soon as possible. They needed to decide the best way to help Chelsey.

After Chelsey and Emily had gone, Martin took Peter out of his buggy and lifted him on to the bed. Louisa reached eagerly towards him so Martin helped her hold Peter in her good arm. Peter gurgled happily and Louisa's face glowed. Martin felt an overwhelming surge of love and somehow knew that the time was right to tell Louisa how much he loved her. He cleared his throat as he tried to find the right words,

'Doctor Ellingham! Come quickly!'

Pauline burst into Louisa's room, panting heavily,

'Stu Mackenzie's threatening to kill a reporter!'

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	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Twenty-two

Martin stared blankly at Pauline. She'd just come charging in to tell him that Mackenzie was threatening some reporter, probably with complete justification if it was the idiots who'd been pestering people earlier. She clearly expected him to do something, but why?

'What do you expect me to do about it?'

'Martin!'

Louisa sounded shocked and Martin turned to her, baffled,

'What? You don't think Mackenzie will listen to me, do you? At the last governor's meeting he said I was the most arrogant man he'd ever met.'

'You had just said that he was an ignorant idiot whose inability to think logically made him incompetent to be a governor,' Pauline pointed out.

'Well, he is. And that is why I don't understand why you think I can do anything about whatever idiotic mess he's got himself into this time.'

'Because you were the one who told him that no strangers should be allowed near Molly. He went home to shower and change and check on the animals and came back to find these two men in Molly's room.'

'They were in Molly's room? Why didn't you say so earlier? I have to go at once.'

Martin was halfway through the door when a noise from Peter stopped him,

'Pauline, help Louisa with the baby.'

'But, Doc…'

Martin ignored Pauline's protest and hurried back to the children's ward. As he used the alcohol scrub again he wondered if the reporters had even done that much. He was prepared to bet that they hadn't disinfected their equipment. It was amazing that such ignorant people managed to function in society.  
When he got into the main ward, Martin found that the villagers had surrounded the two men from the Daily News and were stopping them from leaving. Several people were haranguing them and two security guards were attempting to restore order without success. Martin noticed with displeasure that several children had got out of bed and joined the circle around the newspapermen. Martin advanced into the room and bellowed,

'SHUT UP!'

The noise level dropped and Martin pushed his way into the circle,

'Mackenzie, did they go into Molly's room?'

'Yes. I didn't know they were there until…'

'Shut up. You, Evans, or whatever your name is, did you disinfect your equipment before you went in?'

'It's not that easy, Doc. It's delicate electrical equipment.'

'Yes or no; did you make any attempt to clean your equipment before you came on to the ward?'

'Uh, no.'

'I told you that you were putting the children on this ward at risk by bringing new infectious agents on to this ward but not only did you come back but you went into the room of a critically injured child proving that not only are you mentally defective but criminally amoral too!'

'B…but…'

Martin turned his back on the journalist and addressed the ward Sister,

'Get Chris Parsons down here and get these children back in bed.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Martin turned back round, only to find that the two newspapermen were trying to sidle past him. He stepped in front of them and beckoned to the security guards,

'Take these two down to the labs. I need swabs done of every surface on their equipment and I need to know what they are carrying around with them inside and out. Then they need to go into isolation for five days.'

'Isolation! Doctor, we've got to work.'

'You should have thought of that before you came in here.'

The security guards hustled the journalists out and Martin addressed the Sister again,

'Have the ward cleaned and get the neurologist up here.'

'Yes, Doctor. But…'

'What?'

'The cleaning…'

'What about it?'

'What she's trying to tell you is that we had to do it last time. Come on everyone,'

The speaker was one of the parents and Martin watched as people sighed but went to the cleaning cupboard for supplies.

Satisfied that his orders were being obeyed, Martin went into Molly's room. Stu Mackenzie was already busy with a cloth, wiping all the surfaces. Martin checked Molly's notes and carefully examined her.

'How bad is it, Doctor?'

Stu's voice was anguished and Martin realised that the stress was beginning to tell. Reassuringly, he said,

'There's no sign of any harm. I've asked the neurologist to come and take a look. He will probably want to start some antibiotics prophylactically as a precaution.'

'A precaution?'

'Yes, it may well be completely unnecessary.'

'But you laid into those reporters like it was certain they'd killed her.'

'Ah, well, I may have exaggerated a bit.'

Martin felt uncomfortable even though he knew he wasn't actually lying. Statistically, the chances of Molly catching anything from the journalists were extremely low. However, the consequences of her catching anything could be severe. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that telling parents about low probability consequences should always be avoided; most of them were too stupid to understand percentages and would panic needlessly. Unfortunately, Stu Mackenzie could show annoying intelligence at times,

'So, it's still possible that she could have caught something from them?'

'Yes, but it's very unlikely.'

'So why the antibiotics?'

'Molly is more vulnerable to infection than usual at the moment. I would have started her on antibiotics yesterday to prevent the wound from getting infected but I'm sure the neurologist had his reasons for delaying it.'

Stu Mackenzie looked at him in sudden comprehension,

'That's why you've summoned him, isn't it?'

'Certainly not.'

Stu Mackenzie smiled,

'Don't worry, Doctor. I'll just mop the floor and then I'll clear off so you and the consultant can talk without me in the way.'

Martin moved out of Stu's way, baffled. Why would Mackenzie think he needed to leave when the consultant came? It would be useful to be able to talk frankly with the neurologist but why was Mackenzie happy about it? Usually people were very offended when he asked them to leave. He was still trying to understand it when Chris Parsons stuck his head round the door,

'Martin, you've had a problem with a reporter, I understand.'

Martin went back into the main ward and explained to Chris what had happened. By the time he'd finished ranting, everyone in the ward was listening,

'…and what I want to know is how they got in!'

'It's a public building, Martin.'

'It's a hospital. People shouldn't be allowed to wander around unsupervised, disturbing patients. Bringing their filth in with them.'

'Uh, yes. It's a shame you were disturbed by the reporters. You told them what you thought, I take it?'

'Yes. I told them that they were a pair of vile parasites. What?'

Chris Parsons had flinched and closed his eyes,

'I wish you hadn't said that.'

'Why? They are vile parasites.'

'I know. It's just that the hospital doesn't need bad publicity at the moment.'

'Then keep reporters away from me.'

'Believe me, Martin, I tried. There's a press conference scheduled for this afternoon and all the reporters were supposed to be coming to that.'

'I hope you're not expecting me to come.'

'God, no!'

Chris' voice was vehement and Martin looked at him in surprise,

'You know I don't do small talk, Chris.'

'I know Martin and I never intended for you to talk to the press. I'm not quite sure what I'll say to them but I see no need for you to come to the press conference. I'm sure you're far too busy.'

'Yes, I am.'

Chris Parsons hurried off, looking harassed.

The villagers went back to chatting with their friends and families but anyone who had looked at Emily Baker would have realised that she was deep in thought.

A few minutes later, Stu Mackenzie came out of Molly's room and shut the door so that Martin could talk to the neurologist, Mr Finch, in private. He decided to go and get a cup of tea and started towards the ward exit. A couple of seconds later he was startled by a young voice saying,

'Mr Mackenzie, can I talk to you?'

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	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Twenty-three

Martin exited Molly's room, satisfied that Mr Finch was at least marginally competent. The neurologist had wanted to confer with him before prescribing antibiotics for Molly in case of an allergy. Stu Mackenzie had been too upset to give him a coherent answer the previous evening and Molly had never been in hospital before so they had no previous records to fall back on. In fact, Molly was a robust child who'd only had amoxycillin twice in her life and had suffered no side effects either time. He left Mr Finch to talk to Stu Mackenzie and went round the room checking each child's chart and doing examinations as required. He was pleased to find Tom, the boy whom he'd resuscitated, sat up in bed chatting happily and proudly showing everyone the bruise on his chest from Martin's CPR. The bruise was already a vivid purple and would take some time to vanish. Martin checked Tom's chart to make sure that his ribs had been x-rayed and that his blood oxygen saturation levels were at one hundred percent. Only then did he transfer his attention to Tom,

'How are you feeling?'

'Fine.'

The answer was bright and Tom smiled at him but Martin could tell that something was bothering him,

'You need to tell me if there's anything wrong. At your age, there are treatments and therapies that can be used to correct a lot of things.'

Tom looked at the blanket and whispered,

'My legs felt funny when I stood up.'

'Hmm…when was this?'

'After breakfast. I went to the toilet and my legs felt really weak.'

Martin pulled the blanket off and carefully examined Tom's legs. Tom had feeling in all of his toes, no numbness or pins and needles and there was no bruising on either leg.

'How did you feel otherwise? Any nausea? Dizziness?'

'I felt a bit sick.'

'It might have been delayed shock. Try standing now.'

Obediently, Tom swung his legs off the bed and stood up. Martin watched him closely as he took a few tentative steps,

'How do they feel now?'

'Better.'

'Good. Come and see me if you experience any other problems.'

Without waiting for an answer, Martin went to the next bed.

After about half an hour, Martin was longing to return to Louisa. Not only did the children keep wasting his time with chatter, but all the parents wanted to thank him personally when all he'd done was do what he was trained to do. Anyone would think they'd never seen someone doing their job properly before. Mind you, with people like PC Penhale and Bert as examples for them, perhaps it was no wonder that they were surprised by his competence and efficiency.  
Even worse, some of his patients had tried to consult him about their medical problems in the middle of the ward. Bert had wanted him to look at his back, which was bad enough but nowhere near as bad Trevor Bailey who'd wanted him to look at a suspicious mole on his left buttock. Martin had brusquely told them both to make an appointment,

'But when for, Doc? That's the thing, you see. I don't want to make an appointment for tomorrow only to have it cancelled at the last minute.'

Bert's question made Martin realise that he was going to have to cut down on surgery time if he was going to come to the hospital every afternoon.

'From tomorrow I'll be doing an extended surgery in the morning and an emergencies only surgery in the evening.'

'Right you are then, Doc.'

Bert ambled off and Martin glared indiscriminately around the ward, daring anyone else to approach him.  
He finished going round the ward as quickly as possible and hurried back to Louisa's bedside.

Louisa was cuddling Peter who was sound asleep and Pauline was gossiping with Joan Norton.

'…she never?'

'Oh, yes. I saw them myself. Completely brazen about it. Hello, Marty. Everything all right?'

'Yes.'

'Did Mr Mackenzie kill that reporter?' asked Pauline, hopefully.

'Of course not. Mackenzie may be an idiot but he's not violent.'

Martin had hoped that a brief answer would have sufficed but he was forced to give a complete recap of what had happened in the ward. By the time he had finished, Peter was grizzling.

'Do you want me to give him a bottle?' asked Aunty Joan, eagerly.

'Yes, please, Joan.'

Louisa gave the baby to Joan, who smiled gently at him,

'I'll go and feed him in the café. Come and find me when you're ready to go, Marty.'

'Pauline you need to go back to Port Wenn so that people can reschedule their appointments. I shall do a normal morning surgery from eight-thirty to one-thirty and an emergencies-only surgery from six to seven in the evening. Make sure that everyone knows that the evening is for genuine emergencies only. I'm going to be extremely busy so tell everyone that I don't want to see any time wasters or malingerers. Far too many people come to me with minor things when they should be going to see Mrs Tishell; she's perfectly competent. I need to see Chelsey Baker with both of her parents as soon as possible.'

'Yes, Doctor Ellingham. Am I going to get paid overtime then?'

'Since you'll be getting the afternoons off, no.'

Pauline looked furious but Peter's grizzling had turned into loud crying and talking became impossible.

Pauline and Joan left together and Martin was finally alone with Louisa.

'You'll have to pay her, you know,' said Louisa gently.

'If she does the work.'

Martin's tone was indifferent; his attention was on Louisa. She was looking tired, her hair was messy and her hospital gown had had to be cut to fit over her cast but she was still amazingly beautiful. As he gazed into her eyes, Martin felt an overwhelming surge of love. He took her free hand in his, saying,

'You look tired.'

'I am tired. Though my headache's a lot better.'

'Good. How's your vision?'

'The same.'

'Well…um…I'll leave you to sleep.'

'Can you stay for a bit?'

'I ought to get back to Port Wenn,' said Martin awkwardly.

He wondered whether to tell Louisa how he felt about her but decided to wait until she was feeling better; she wouldn't want to be bothered by him when she wasn't feeling well.  
He kissed her softly and left.

The rest of Martin's day was filled with looking after Peter and seeing patients in Port Wenn. By the time he'd finished it was after nine o'clock and too late to return to Truro so he reluctantly left a message for Louisa, promising to visit her the following afternoon, and went to bed.

The next morning was spent seeing more patients, most of whom seemed determined to waste his time by talking about what he'd done when the school collapsed. The villagers all loved to gossip but Martin was at a loss to explain why they were so fascinated by his triage skills, particularly since most of them were ridiculously ignorant about even basic first aid. It was with relief that he closed the surgery and set off for Truro.

He parked in the consultant's car park as usual and strode into the hospital, completely oblivious to the looks and comments from staff and visitors.  
Having used the alcohol scrub to disinfect his hands thoroughly, he hurried into Louisa's room. Louisa was sat up in bed, surrounded by newspapers, crying. Horrified, Martin rushed over to her,

'Louisa! What's wrong?'

'The papers…I saw the pictures of the school…and I remembered.'

'You remember?'

'I remember seeing Sam driving towards the school. I…I remember telling the children to get under the desks and the ceiling collapsing towards me.'

Helplessly, Martin held Louisa as she clung to him,

'You'll need counselling. I'll arrange for someone to come and see you as soon as possible.'

'Thank you, Martin.'

Louisa sniffed a couple of times,

'Martin, can you pass me a tissue?'

Martin passed her a box of tissues and sat down on the bed, moving a couple of newspapers out of his way.

'You've already read them, then?'

'What?'

'The newspapers?'

'No. Why would I be interested in the outpourings of a bunch of semi-literate hacks?'

'Oh, Martin, you are hopeless.'

Louisa was smiling as she passed him the papers. Glancing at the headlines, he saw that the disaster at Port Wenn had made the front page not only of the local press but of several of the national papers too. Well, it involved children so perhaps it wasn't surprising. Casually reading the article in one of the more reputable broadsheets, he was amazed to see a picture of himself along with the headline,

"Unlikely Hero."

Reading further he discovered that Stu Mackenzie had given an interview in which he was quoted as saying,

"Martin Ellingham is the rudest man I've ever met. He's arrogant, insensitive and opinionated and treats everyone as if they're inferior to him. Whenever the Board of Governor's meets we argue for hours as he's convinced he's always right. But he's the best doctor I've ever had. People come from miles around to consult him because if you're ill, he'll find out what's wrong and get you the right treatment. If it weren't for Doctor Ellingham my daughter would be dead. He knelt down in the middle of rubble and operated on her and because of what he did my wife arrived home from her mother's to find Molly in a hospital bed instead of a coffin. Port Wenn is lucky that he was there when it happened."

Startled, Martin flicked through the other papers,

"Is this the rudest doctor in Britain? Perhaps, but his patients wouldn't swap him."

"Astounding triage skills from astoundingly rude doctor."

"Locals count their blessings (and their insults!), 'There would have been many more dead if it wasn't for Doc Martin,' says villager."

Baffled, Martin looked at Louisa,

'But I was just doing my job.'

'Yes but they appreciate you doing it.'

'Why would I train as a doctor and then not treat people?'

'It would never occur to you to walk past someone who needed a doctor, would it?'

Martin shook his head, completely confused.

Louisa smiled and pulled his head down so she could kiss him,

'I love you, Martin.'

Heart racing, Martin forced himself to reply,

'Um…uh…ditto.'

The End

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